


Flying High in a New World

by Kisuru



Category: X -エックス- | X/1999
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Romance, Sex Pollen, Smut, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Wing Kink, Wingfic, but this sex pollen is by magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-07 18:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisuru/pseuds/Kisuru
Summary: Kamui is jealous that Subaru and Seishirou are a couple. He waits outside Seishirou's apartment, simply dreading that they're together. One night, everything changes after he sprouts a pair of wings.





	Flying High in a New World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



> Kamui is normally seen with wings in CLAMP art. I wanted to take his wings appearing a step further.

Every day Kamui wished he could fly.  
  
Perhaps he could escape the constant daily torment he suffered. All he had to do was will himself to jump, and he would fly above the dazzling capital city he was to protect, the Earth he was destined to keep thriving. Such a thought would no longer be a pipe dream.  
  
Or, more importantly, he could rise above where he was. Be free, have no regrets.  
  
But the thing he wanted realistically was less grandiose; he wanted affection which was misplaced onto the sakurazukamori.  
  
He must show Subaru he was worth his attention.  
  
Subaru always walked away from him with awkward backward glances. But that wasn’t the worst of it—Kamui knew the truth. On nights he wanted to spend times with Subaru, his eyes glazed over guilty. He shook his head, turned away, and bid him farewell.  
  
Kamui never returned the favor, because Subaru had told him he shouldn’t say anything he didn’t mean. Kamui knew where he was going, and he would never approve of it, despite that it made Subaru happy.  
  
Sometimes that stubbornness confused him.  
  
In the dead of night, Kamui followed. He packed into the same train last minute in an effort for Subaru not to spot him. Kamui prayed Subaru didn’t hear the accidental scrape of his footsteps, but he never acknowledged them if he did, wandering into the high rise’s well-lit lobby each time.  
  
At a loss where to go, Kamui eventually scouted out a bench in a small park facing the window of that apartment. The chirps of night life and dogs kept his thoughts company.  
  
The moon blinded him from above, and the fair wind grazed his cheek. The sky was dark without the illumination of stars. Uneasily, he shifted. Kamui sighed resentfully.  
  
He hated it. So, so badly.  
  
The onmyouji and sakurazukamori never separated. Lately, they had become close over the last handful of months—far more involved prior to Nakano Plaza—and Kamui knew they were more than enemies, now. With a fiery passion he loathed the sakurazukamori for his atrocities against Subaru, dangling his delicate emotions at his feet before he stomped on them.  
  
Yet Subaru fell into the trap like clockwork.  
  
But if Subaru were to finally find reason and stop this, wouldn’t it have happened?  
  
Would Subaru never notice him?  
  
Kamui gripped the wooden bench under his palms until the wood chafed his palms.  
  
Soon after, he swore the light in the apartment flickered out of life. He was too low on ground level to clarify, and honestly, he didn’t know which apartment it was. In the end, he didn’t have a desire to know.  
  
The entire building was the root of his hell.  


* * *

  
The bench wasn’t always sufficient, though. When the depression of the situation fully wrenched his gut, and his need to be nearer to Subaru was at its peak, Kamui plopped against the base of the building and watched passerby.  
  
Security normally waved him off, but after an incident where he violently knocked the guard down, they mostly let him be.  
  
Kamui couldn’t help it. Nothing was right like this. His powers, life, and freedom . . . everything was haywire.  
  
He just wanted _something_.  
  
Subaru’s shadow disappeared into the lobby.  
  
23:32, Kamui’s watch read. Subaru had arrived later tonight—he had gone to pickup food. Kamui glanced at the building, wondering if he should stay after all. The trains would stop running soon and he didn’t plan to stay all night alone. The other Seals would worry that Fuuma managed to slice him into fine ribbons. It still may as well have been an eternity he weighed his options.  
  
This time he was more reluctant than ever.  
  
No, Kamui didn’t want to leave so quickly.  
  
Forlornly, he stared upward. His resolve dropped and the weight crashed into his feet. The image of the couple eating dinner in a darkened room and doing more together afterwards stabbed his heart.  
  
He couldn’t… he wanted to be there….  
  
Then, the pain strengthened.  
  
Kamui’s eyes widened. The headache in the back of his skull worsened. At first the headache had been a dull stress throb, but now it was sharp. He gasped, flailing for something, grappling onto the greenery in a stone enclosure. The plant’s stem dug into the thin skin of his palm. All the smothering tension in his body transferred to his back. He hunched over and fell to his shaking knees.  
  
The ripping at the base of his neck and down his spine hurt like fire piercing his skin.  
  
There was a song in his ears. It was a sweet hum of pretold promises similar to the tone of his mother’s long lost voice and Hinoto’s cryptic, prophetic words combined. Yet the otherworldly sound originated within his body and unraveled at its own pace.  
  
Suddenly, the solidity of the ground vanished. He tore the plant with a whiplash movement.  
  
Kamui didn’t have a vague idea what happened until the ethereal light swallowed him whole.  


* * *

  
With a flick of his wrist, the last candle on the table was lit. The scent of vanilla churned in his nostrils. Basic, yet effective; Subaru was indeed a sappy romantic after all. Quite pleased with his handiwork, Seishirou straightened to survey the room’s atmosphere and nodded. If he did say so himself, Subaru would be taken aback.  
  
Just in time, too. Subaru’s presence was nearby.  
  
Most nights Seishirou didn’t bother with the clichė dinner and candlelight formalities. Frankly speaking, Subaru yanked him to the bed more often than not out of impatience, and neither did he care about appearances anymore, so the necessity of such things was an extra luxury.  
  
Besides, sometimes he lived to see Subaru bewildered at how purely “kind” and “thoughtful” he could be for their dates. Switching up the routine made it fresh.  
  
Subaru’s suspicion for his motives was the best, and he had a lovely glare when he tried to be oh-so threatening.  
  
Now, Seishirou just had to—  
  
Nandarou poked at his consciousness before he could rein him in for the night. Seishirou sent his shikigami out for a short patrol even on nights he didn’t plan to be outside, but that was also more or less custom.  
  
Hopefully nothing ruined dinner.  
  
Adjusting his eye to his shikigami’s sight, he scoured the area for anything suspect. At first he thought the odd glittering was a moon reflection. Once he looked several stories towards the ground, he was amused.  
  
“Is that. . . .?”  
  
The Dragon of Heaven’s face was contorted and astounded, pale like a sheet from shock. He floated on the breeze, the wind ruffling his hair in the flourish of breeze. He rose past each level of the high rise at a quick rate.  
  
Well, this was a rarity.  
  
Seishirou’s head titled backwards. He glanced at the cutlery on the table, then towards his balcony, and then back to the cutlery. There was something not right about this situation.  
  
Ah, yes. He had forgotten the wine glasses. He shrugged and returned to his preparations.  
  
His shiki crowed at him urgently. Seishirou slipped the glasses out of the cupboard. Nandarou wasn’t usually that vocal, but he was persistent he was making a mistake.  
  
“Save him? Should I?” Seishirou asked, depositing the glasses down to gentle clinks. “I’m not involved with him, you know.”  
  
On second thought, he would be in trouble.  
  
One night, Subaru had blathered on about him. He just couldn’t recall the exact words. Nonetheless, he had sat there long enough for Seishirou to ask what was wrong, and he mentioned the boy and how he didn’t want to hurt him and a million other things Seishirou had let him cry on his shoulder for.  
  
While he was mostly neutral on the subject Subaru would kill him if that boy was injured.  
  
To a lesser extent, Kamui was cute himself. It would be a shame to let him die.  
  
Seishirou dashed to the balcony. The cool evening breeze met him as soon as he opened the door. He shielded his eyes from the moonlight and peered down over the edge, searching, a bit exasperated. But he didn’t have to use his power to search; Kamui’s power was a burst of magic, fleeting and fragile and robust. He didn’t need to see.  
  
He reached out and caught onto his shoulder. With a tug, he yanked him over the rail.  
  
Kamui tumbled to the floor. He wrapped both hands around the rails for support. A pair of wings spanned to each side. From a closer angle, Seishirou was able to see the pure white feathers and aura that surrounded them, the dashes of grey under those long primaries.  
  
Seishirou was quite captivated with them.  
  
“Today if your lucky day,” Seishirou told him brightly. He clasped his hands dramatically and chuckled. “I think Subaru-kun has truly changed me. Saving the helpless.”  
  
Kamui shot him a dirty look. Shakily, he pushed himself to his feet. He inhaled deeply at Subaru’s name, spent, trying to gather his shattered bearings. But there was only so much that he could do to calm himself in the sakurazukamori’s withering presence.  
  
“You bastard!” The truth registered. “You saved me?” Kamui’s head was spinning. The admission didn’t make sense, but he didn’t see another plausible explanation.  
  
“Don’t misunderstand,” Seishirou said, smiling as condensatingly as possible. He had his dose of thrill and Subaru hadn’t arrived to the party. “Subaru-kun will deny me sex should you injure yourself. I wish to avoid that outcome.”  
  
Kamui blinked as though his words flew over his head. He didn’t want to comprehend that, but the sakurazukamori was smug about Subaru, and Kamui did not appreciate that. Eyes narrowing, he straightened himself. He was able to compose his beating heart just a little before a new fear struck him again.  
  
He was _alone_ with the sakurazukamori, and he didn’t know how to call for backup here.  
  
Kamui locked eyes with Seishirou. He balled up a fist. Seishirou easily snatched his wrist before he punched him in the face.  
  
“Speaking of troublesome,” Seishirou asked while sizing him up, genuinely interested and unruffled, “why do you have those?” Every time he had glimpsed this Kamui he had never grown magnificent appendages.  
  
“Shut up!” Except Kamui’s fierce blush betrayed him. He was trapped.  
  
“Ah, but they look real,” Seishirou observed. His grip was iron-clad. Although Kamui struggled, Seishirou didn’t stop. “Does it have to with being a Dragon of Heaven? Let me admire them.”  
  
Which he did to his pleasure. Placing a hand on the tip of his wing, he stroked the fine fibers. He expected the lifeless, saggy type of wings Hokuto had strapped onto her back so many years ago as a fashion statement. Despite her best fashion efforts gravity did its. But these wings were fluffy, light, smooth like crystal and cold to the touch like fresh winter ice.  
  
Melting heat pooled in Kamui’s stomach. Kamui panted, horrified, backing up against the rail in order to escape. Seishirou cupped the wing in his hands, which set-off another wave of weakness to his knees.  
  
“Don’t do that!“ Kamui moaned, wriggling. Thoughts on his surroundings all faded in one fell swoop. He threw his head backwards.  
  
A wicked grin stretched across Seishirou’s features. He spoke those words, but his tone of voice did not sound that way, and he looked at Seishirou under thin eyelashes with… heat. Each time he stroked his wing, Kamui gradually stopped fighting back.  
  
Seishirou’s good eye glinted.  
  
This was one method to pass the time.  


* * *

  
Subaru juggled the paper bags in his hands while stepping off the elevator. Lately, he had become far more accustomed to coming here.  
  
Now, it was . . . like home. Eating was mostly for Seishirou’s sake (he was a glutton), but he enjoyed the tranquility of sitting around and sharing something comfortable.  
  
And then power washed over him.  
  
It wasn’t by any means subtle. When Kamui was in trouble, his power was not subdued. But this was… whirling, strong, raw power. Subaru didn’t sense danger, but. . . .  
  
Was it in the apartment?  
  
He raced down the hallway and rang the buzzer. No answer. Frowning, Subaru shuffled for his room key, inserting it in the lock before unknowingly stepping in. In too much of a hurry to think, he wandered farther in.  
  
The sight before him on the couch thoroughly caught him off-guard and sent him reeling.  
  
Kamui leaned back over the couch with his mouth hanging open, eyes trained on the ceiling. Seishirou’s hands were around him, and his face hovered above Kamui’s neck. His hands skirted over the soft skin of Kamui’s chest, his shirt discarded somewhere out of sight. Kamui made a soft noise between a moan and growl that resembled a… plea?  
  
Subaru’s jaw went slack. He didn’t know whether he should be furious, wounded, or ready to fight. All three, most likely.  
  
Hadn’t he just left Kamui two hours ago?  
  
“What are you _doing_?” Subaru’s first impulse was to pull out a sheath of ofuda and protect Kamui, and then he remembered where was. Subaru planted his arms against his sides, dropping the food bags at his feet with a clatter, expression unflinchingly cross.  
  
Beautiful! Seishirou was not disappointed. “Ah, there it is,” he observed appreciatively. He winked at Subaru, who dropped his hand to his pocket. That wouldn’t do. Tonight was fruitful with so many treats. He was starving to see the rest it had to offer. “Helping Kamui-kun with his wings. They’re not for show.” He squeezed his wing, which forced another whimper out of Kamui’s mouth. “Don’t you think they’re very pretty?”  
  
“His–what?” Subaru’s sense of duty veered off-track. Out of all the deceptive reasons Seishirou was known to concoct just to play with him, this one threw him for a high loop. But there the wings were right in front of him.  
  
“You’re not helping me!” Kamui snapped.  
  
“Aren’t I?”  
  
Seishirou beckoned Subaru to come to them. Hesitating, Subaru slowly did so, intrigued and less cautious he had been hiding something. Seishirou grabbed his wrist and directed Subaru’s hand towards Kamui’s outstretched wing.  
  
It wasn’t until then that it fully came to Subaru that a shining light emitted from a pair of long, curved wings on Kamui’s back. His wings protruded above the head of the chair. His fingers were immediately cold, but he brushed them gingerly.  
  
Something about them sent a flutter of desire down Subaru’s spine. His hand nearly went through the thin layer of spiritual power, entangled in the many layers of feathers that covered his fingertips. Seeing Kamui like this, however, set his heart aflame.  
  
“See, Subaru-kun,” he encouraged. ‘They’re soft. And they make him feel nice.”  
  
It suddenly hit him what Seishirou was implying and what the blush on Kamui’s cheeks meant. He went rigid, torn, jolted into the present. He wasn’t opposed. . . .  
  
Seishirou getting into this was the strangest aspect of it. As for the wings existence? He may have to question that detail later on  
  
“We shouldn’t,” Subaru said weakly.  
  
Looking out for Kamui’s benefit was Subaru’s number one goal. It always had been since he had been met him. It would continue to be.  
  
Silently to himself, Seishirou sighed. They would never get anywhere like this if Subaru went into self-conscious mode. He didn’t have all night for Subaru to reach that conclusion. Obviously, the look of wanting to please in Subaru’s eye spoke volumes.  
  
Seishirou clasped Subaru’s collar. He lead him around the couch and bent him over to press his mouth to Kamui’s. The first thing that breached his thoughts was how warm and wide Kamui’s purple eyes were like flickering lightning. Subaru’s gasped a bit, the flush across his cheeks for him to want to leave.  
  
“Kamui-kun here has been watching us for a while, now,” Seishirou pointed out. “You made him feel left out, yes? Let’s fix that.”  
  
Kamui scoffed, though he was shocked. How long had he known that? But Subaru’s lips on his sent his brain abuzz and he wrapped an arm around his waist. He hated to do as the sakurazukamori instructed, but—he didn’t know! Subaru was here and it was enough.  
  
Seishirou’s hands were on his chest, and Subaru’s were around him. No part of him was neglected and it nearly felt like he _belonged_ like this, so flooded with attention. He surrendered to the tangle of hands and limbs on him, shaking under their warmth.  
  
Eventually, he didn’t know how, but Kamui found himself in a standing while Subaru tried to find a comfortable position on the small couch. Subaru’s leg bumped up against the glass table behind them. Kamui gripped onto the edge of the Subaru’s shoulder. Subaru’s vision was still honed at Kamui’s fanned out wings, covering him from behind like a lopsided heart, otherworldly yet inviting.  
  
It was something about the wings. They emanated such raw attractive power. But it was more than just that at this point.  
  
Kamui’s brain was immediately mush the moment Subaru’s hands played with the buckle of his pants. It was tantalizing _pain_ to feel Subaru’s hand brush against him and realize that he was already dripping far more than when he about Subaru by himself. Cool air rushed up his legs as the pants fell to his feet and were kicked to the side. He could still feel the cotton of Subaru’s shirt against his side, Subaru too engrossed to care.  
  
Both of them were too hot and disorientated.  
  
Basking in Subaru’s presence was temporarily broken. Seishirou reached up and placed a hand on top of Kamui’s head. He grasped his Kamui’s thin strands of brown hair. Hard, he pushed him down to his knees, and Kamui dropped with a hard thud between his legs.  
  
Seishirou forced him to look up at him. He placed under hand under his chin. Kamui’s chin scratched the top of his slacks and rested there before he noticed the pulsing heat in front of him and how _hard_ Seishirou was.  
  
He had expected the first person he would do this with would be Subaru. But with the commanding way the sakurazukamori looked down at him coupled with his own needs, Kamui couldn’t find any strength to object.  
  
Kamui was mortified for a moment—how dare he even suggest such a thing—but Seishirou forced his head closer to his cock. His open mouth sucked in his head. It took a minute to adjust but he started to take him farther in, gagging a bit on his sheer power of thrust. Seishirou let him have a little air but he wasn’t allowed to go far away from him.  
  
From behind, Subaru knelt down next to Kamui. He examined him. Usually, he hated Seishirou, but with the eagerness he was displaying . . . Subaru was on the end that he could fully fathom the extent to Kamui’s wings. The way his wings twitched and started to flap excitedly, as though he was beginning to get used to the rhythm. . . .  
  
He was careful to kneel behind Kamui. He didn’t quite have as good of a seating arrangement as Seishirou did, but he had a much better view of how truly beautiful looked like this. This was Subaru’s to see his frame, his healing scars, and a back shown only to him. Subaru’s leg hit the table again and the array of paperwork and utensils in their holder rattled in his haste.  
  
But he was careful. He didn’t have anything, so he would have to be extra careful not to do anything too desperate and hurt him.  
  
Subaru grabbed his hips and pushed into him inch by inch. It was a gentle nudge in at first, but Kamui shivered and scooted back so he could better fill him. Losing himself in the sensation, Subaru’s fingers tightened on his skin as he straightened and coaxed himself in a rhythm. Kamui’s could feel him enter him, and he burned, but he craved every slowly quickening pound of his body against his. Kamui’s hips rocked impatiently.  
  
He hated himself for how shameless this whole thing was, but he couldn’t help it. Kamui’s blood boiled. The heat between him was intoxicating, his own hunger ravenous.  
  
He may as well have no more reservations.  
  
Kamui propped himself on Seishirou’s knees and flicked his tongue up and down the head, tongue lapping down his vein. At first it was difficult and his jaw hurt, but with more and more twitching and pre-come and saliva, Kamui found the experience intense. He wrapped both hands around the base to make it at least a little more manageable.  
  
It was an accelerating ebb in his stomach. Seishirou marveled at his ability, but he still needed practice—Seishirou didn’t have that time, he needed friction. Seishirou’s hips snapped back and forth into the wet cavern of his mouth. Kamui learned how to take him. He drove in the depths of Kamui’s mouth at his own pace and built up the pressure. Not as hurried as Subaru, but not as gentle.  
  
Subaru’s arms made their way around Kamui’s lanky body again, pushing himself against Kamui’s wings. Being that close just felt so… intimate.  
  
They were a perfect place to fall, sensitive as cushions. Although they obscured his view of Seishirou and Kamui’s faces and the pleasure written on them Subaru thought that might be a small price. He wouldn’t trade the view for the world. Subaru’s hands carded farther into his plumage. He savored and massaged the reverberating feel of each down feather, each inner tetrial. The wings’ broad, delicate grace.  
  
Each movement from both sides caused Kamui to quake. The wings hypersensitivity forced circles in his eyes, and Seishirou’s insistence kept him in the present.  
  
Seishirou’s body thrummed, and the whole was a haze. He bunched his hand in his hair.  
He gazed at Kamui’s wanton, glowing face, wanting to see the look on his face when he was covered by the seed of the man he hated.  
  
He pulsed, and Kamui was able to catch it right before happened. Seishirou’s bucked with wild abandon as the ropes of come splattered across his pretty face and dribbled down his chin. He coughed, but swallowed what he could of him, the feeling of the thick fluid the only thing he could feel.  
  
He should hate himself. But he didn’t, and his face was blissful, even. Seishirou couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He couldn’t wait to hang this above his head later on.  
  
Kamui and Subaru’s movements. At his peak, the stars exploded into galaxies in front of Kamui’s eyes, and he jerked and climaxed under the pressure of mostly Subaru’s soft hands on his wings.  
  
Subaru became less stable. His nails dug into Kamui’s slender skin, face nuzzling into his wings. He shoved into him harder than before, not afraid to take him and not worried he would break. Subaru released, leaving Kamui with warmth spreading within Kamui. Exhausted, Subaru fell forward into him.  
  
Like that, they didn’t move for a while. Kamui’s hormones had been out of control, but he felt… sated. He didn’t feel out of place.  
  
He wondered if his wings had come here knowing he had been missing out on something like this. He didn’t mind in the afterglow. Either way, he didn’t feel lonely anymore on that bench, and their equal strengths helped balance out his own power.  
  
Kamui didn’t mind this turning into something more.


End file.
